


Those Instances

by MarieAllen



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: Best Friends, College Roommates, F/M, Family!Arnold/Helga, Fluff, Friendship, Probably mostly AU, Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-20 05:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3638562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieAllen/pseuds/MarieAllen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles and longer of various moments between Helga and Arnold in different realities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Bad Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Tea.
> 
> Rating: General

Helga sighed as she dropped the bags of groceries on the counter. Her entire day had been one awful moment after another. First she woke up late because she forgot to set the alarm on her phone. That made her miss breakfast, which made her exceptionally hangry, which gave her awful road rage. Then she had a bicker-fight with her boss, which really wasn't her fault (honesty, when would she not have to pull up the slack for her co-workers?) that left both of them in an even fouler mood for the rest of the work day. She barely got anything done.

Then the line had been so long at the grocery store, she thought she lost a year of her life. Then she got into a fight with the person who cut in front of her when they opened a new line. She had been waiting first, and way longer than that jerk. Who the hell did he think he was? She had had enough of dealing with shitty people for the day.

And normally she wouldn't have even needed to go to the grocery store. She hated shopping. That was her husband's job. But they only had one car right now because a punk teenager had been too busy texting or chatting on the phone or whatever and had rear-ended him the other day. The shop said it would take two weeks. Fan-flipping-tastic.

Could life deal another low blow?

It was then that she realized things were quiet in her house. A little too quiet.

Helga stopped dumping things out of the bags for a moment and tilted her head to listen. Silence. Frowning, she looked around for the first time and realized that toys were still tossed around the living room. Paint was uncovered on the kitchen table and a thin, dried layer was on the top of the liquid. It was cheap - Ellie was only four-years-old, after all - so that meant that it had to have been sitting out for at least a couple of hours.

Her heart dropped to her stomach at that realization and Helga cautiously walked out of the kitchen. Food was left out from lunch, the windows were open despite that it was raining outside, and clean laundry was waiting to be folded on the couch. Normally this wouldn't have been a problem, but when Arnold had decided to be a stay-at-home dad after his layoff a year ago, one thing he kept pride in was how everything was put away after use and that everything was kept neat and tidy. Of course, he wasn't psychotic about the house needing to be constantly a model home, but it looked like this was just a disaster.

Silently, not trusting herself to speak, Helga walked down the hallway. Slowly. Cautiously. Just in case... She ignored the fear that seized her, knowing that she was exceptionally irrational right now.

She went to Ellie's room first since the door was wide open.

The scene that she was presented with made her want to bust out laughing out of sheer relief and the ridiculousness of it all. Her awful day was immediately forgotten.

Arnold was sitting on a tiny wooden chair that belonged to Ellie's table set, his long knees practically up to his shoulders. Around his neck was a bright pink boa that completely clashed with the red hat that was falling off his oddly-shaped head. Ellie was dressed in her Thor outfit.

One hand held a plastic saucer and the other, complete with an erect pinky, lightly clasped the handle of the matching tea cup. His slurping was obviously trying to get Ellie riled up. It worked.

"Mrs. Fox! Don't be so wude. That is not polite manners."

"Oh, excuse me!" was Arnold's elaborately high-pitched response. "Dearest Thor, I do declare I was enjoying this tea so much that propriety just flew out the window!"

Ellie sniffed in 'Mrs. Fox's' direction and proceeded to sip her own apple juice tea.

Helga didn't hold back the snicker and laid a hand on her three-month belly. For Arnold's sake, she hoped this one was a boy.


	2. The Kidnapping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Captain of a steampunk ship.
> 
> Rating: Teen+

Arnold glared at Captain Pataki and yanked at the iron keeping him bound to the bench. The suffocation he had been feeling from his father's extreme protectiveness had made him venture out to the marketplace alone. 'Just a few hours,' he had told his very-much-protesting man servant. In and out. Spend some time alone and head back to the protective fortress that was his home. Too bad he had been almost immediately spotted in the crowd.

And by the infamous rebel Pataki, no less. Who knew he was actually a she? Even with her metal left arm it couldn't be denied the captain was gorgeous. It wasn't until she opened her mouth that she could ever be confused as a man.

"You can't possibly think you're going to get away with this." He raised his voice just as he strained to listen for that worm with the long nose, knowing was still around. A creak on the other side of the door signaled that he was. The captain pointedly ignored him and continued maneuvering the metal piece of junk that served as the flying vessel he was in. Long Nose was obviously the driver but Pataki had kicked him out when his nervousness about this seemingly impromptu abduction began to take over his marginal common sense. Questioning his captain would lead to immediate exile, whether they were flying or not.

"Surely there must be a more reasonable-"

He didn't even see her move, but there she was, right in front of him with a knife in his face. He blinked in surprise (had he ever seen her move that fast before?) and swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. "Say anything else and I will cut out your tongue." Before he could blink again, she threw the knife towards the door. It missed and he had absolutely no doubt that the miss was intentional. Long Nose on the other side squeaked and could be heard running off. "Get some sleep, you worthless worm! You're driving this ship in five hours!" Her bellow echoed around the room and Long Nose didn't respond back. Then there was silence.

Pataki let out a very unlady-like snort (which was nothing to distract from her curves. Or those lips...) and resumed her position at the helm.

Arnold cleared this throat and leaned back against the wall as he relaxed his bound wrists on his lap, no longer finding the need to yell. "These  _are_  really tight, you know."

The captain smirked looked over her shoulder and pressed a button. There was a slight jerking noise followed by a soft hum, signaling that the autopilot was on. "You weren't complaining last week."

He grinned widely up at her as made her way to him. Only a moment later she was straddling his waist and both her flesh and metal hands were in his hair as Arnold answered her with a deep kiss. Yeah, he really wished that he could remove the iron and wrap his arms around her but he was more than happy with this current change of events.

Ok, so he wasn't  _exactly_  sneaking out in the marketplace to have a breather and he wasn't  _really_  spotted by chance. This planned 'kidnapping' had been in the works for almost four months now, six months to the day that he had first met the deplorable, frightening, and incredibly sexy Captain H. Pataki.


	3. The Deceit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Twist of the current plot line.
> 
> Rating: M (lime)

The most predictable thing about growing up is how unpredictable it really is. People are constantly changing and it turns out that people that you were inseparable with are suddenly so stupid and idiotic, you can't imagine why you were friends with them in the first place.

So was not the case with Helga and Phoebe. Ever since pre-school, they had been BFFs, partners in crime (actually, it was Helga always dragging Phoebe through the mud but it was always good times!), and attached to the hip. Even when she had started dating Tall Hair Boy in the senior year of High School and she was forced to hang out with her mortal enemy, she took it because it was  _Phoebe._

So while she had absolutely hated Arnold, she dealt with it for the sake of friendship.

She and Arnold had hated each other from day one. He had pushed her in the mud on the way to preschool (he always claimed it was an accident, that he hadn't seen her as he was playing in the puddles) and she had stolen his cracker (which of course she did  _not._ It had just been sitting there, all alone. How was she to know it was his!). From that first day, it had been an on-going war. Everyone knew to never get in the middle between the two and none ever dared to invite them both to the same event at the same time.

It was funny, though, because everyone loved easy-going Arnold. He never fought with anyone except Helga. Not that she cared.

They were in college now, all four conveniently attending the same local school. It was their junior year and Helga had been happily rooming with Phoebe in their spacious two-bedroom apartment, about a block away from where Phoebe's still-boyfriend roomed with his own best friend.

It typically worked out to Helga's advantage anyway. Whenever Pheebs and Circus Polka-Dot Afro wanted to do the sleepover deed, it was Phoebe who went over there. And because the guys had a very large studio apartment, Arnold was typically kicked out. So maybe it wasn't exactly fair, since Phoebe had her own bedroom and all, but she always felt weird with Helga being under the same roof. Whatever. It just meant Helga could pee with the bathroom door open and pig out on junk food without Pheebs nagging over her shoulder about health and dark leafy greens, and magnesium, or whatever she was into these days.

Phoebe had been gone for almost an hour. If something unexpected came up, she would have been back by now. Perfect. PJs and pizza time!

It was almost comical how well her favorite joint knew her by voice alone. All she had to say was "This is Helga for delivery" and they already knew to put in an extra large double pepperoni, chicken wings, and soda with the special, Helga-only discount. Oh the perks of ordering as frequently as she did. Thank you, Phoebe, for being gone as often as you were.

She had literally just set the phone down when there was a knock on the door. Knowing that it was obviously  _not_  the delivery guy, Helga opened the door with a scowl, expecting to see their annoying neighbor a couple of doors down. He always showed up at the most opportune times, asking for some salt, eggs, or toilet paper.

Only it wasn't him. Arnold stood on the other side, holding a bag of candy. Kind of like those bags that you get last minute for Halloween, except it was Spring.

She narrowed her eyes again after he shouldered his way into her apartment. "Excuse me, but I didn't invite you in."

He didn't respond and instead dropped the bag of mixed goodies onto the table she and Phoebe sometimes used for meals. "Where's dinner?"

She scoffed and closed the front door. "I just ordered the pizza. Not that it's my responsibility to actually feed you, Football Head."

He turned to her with a slight smirk and she realized for the first time that he had some sort of sucker sticking out of his mouth. Helga was not the type of girl that thought cigarettes were hot, and she had never been turned on by cowboys chewing on a piece of dried grass, but there was no denying that Arnold could pull off sexy with a piece of candy. And if she tried to deny it, the sudden tightening of her loins would call her out.

He dropped the stick onto the bag, his eyes not leaving her, and stalked closer, his predatory grin sending shivers down her back. "Oh, it very much is your responsibility to  _feed_ me, Lady." A shiver of excitement licked up her thighs as he grabbed her, his tongue instantly slipping past her open lips. There was no hesitation as Helga wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him as close to her as she could.

"How long?" His hands were at the hem of her pants and he tugged downwards, prompting her to lift off her shirt.

"Two weeks." She knew it wasn't the answer he was looking for - of course he knew how long it'd  _been_ , now all he cared about was how long they had before the delivery guy showed up - and when he bit her shoulder, she knew that he knew it too. It had been two fucking long weeks since the last time they could meet up. The one night that Phoebe allowed for a break in her finals studying had been spent at a club. Of course Arnold and Gerald had been there, and it had been torturous not to drag him to a secluded room, rip off that incredibly sexy silk shirt and -

Helga groaned out a muffled "twenty minutes" when he slipped two fingers into her aching core. Her knees slightly buckled and he withdrew his hand to grab her by the waist. His arm muscles tensed as he lifted her up, her bare legs wrapping tightly around him as he carried her to her room.

So what if Helga and Arnold had been going at it for almost years now? She didn't know why they kept it a secret...probably just because it had been this way for so long. And once Phoebe and Gerald started dating, it was just a very convenient thing. The truth was, they got along great. His grandparents knew about them; they had on more than one occasion caught Helga in the Boarding House.

Maybe one day they'd reveal themselves, but until then, she didn't have to share him with anyone.


	4. The Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Revenge
> 
> Rating: General
> 
> This takes place during Arnold and Helga's college years in my story "For the Love of the Game", if you're familiar with it, but it's not necessary for you to be. Basically, they're college roomies here.

 

Helga wasn't known for her patience. When she wanted something, she wanted it now. Amazon same-day delivery wasn't fast enough (did she seriously have to wait until 8pm to get that underwear tissue dispenser?) and she could sympathize with Cubert and Dwight from "Futurama" when they complained their catalog-purchased hovercraft took 7 seconds for delivery when the ad told them it would only take 4-6 seconds. And anyone who hasn't seen "Route of All Evil" needs to because, one, that scene, and two, there was a The Little Prince reference in it and that was one of her favorite books. In French, of course.

So while she couldn't handle waiting any moment longer than necessary, she could easily stay quiet for X amount of time when it involved one Football Head.

Take now, for example. She has been been sitting in this hall cabinet, her neck skewed, for going on fifteen minutes now. Arnold said he'd be home in ten, twenty minutes ago, which means she has maybe five more minutes left to be the human pretzel. She can wait because it'll be worth it. Especially since she had texted back telling him to please pick up dinner - she was running late with her group project in the library and was _starving_. It is a lie: one he'd figure out as soon as he got home.

The front door opens and a shuffling noise of paper bags and shoes echoes through the hallway. She fights the giggle that's bubbling up and grins, waiting for him to walk by. Unlike before, she doesn't wait long. As soon as he walks past her, she throws open the cabinet door and grabs his leg, screaming like some sort of angry banshee.

Arnold, having not expected anything of the sort, screams out himself. He drops the bags of food and stumbles forward, face planting into the carpet as he had not been able to dislodge his leg from Helga's tight grip.

She bursts out laughing and quickly scrambles out of the cabinet, stretching as best as she could through her laughter and sorely, painfully wishing she had caught that on camera. Arnold had always been such an easy scare! He turns towards her with a glare, and, just as he's about to make a remark, she stops him by ceasing her laughter, shooting a glare of her own.

"Don't ever touch my yogurt again."

She walks away, picking up the bags of food which, thankfully, hadn't spilled out, and are still very much warm.

Arnold eats her last container of key lime that night for dessert.


End file.
